The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1887-10-13

unSpeakable anguish.
Nothing, unless you can help me
save her" she said.
And he at once knelt beside her and
began rubbing one of the cold hands
with his warm vigorous ones.
.You knew this?" she asked him:
and he marvelled at her voice, so mon
otonously cold and calm.
"Yes," he answered simply; '.most
of it. But / did not dream of the end
ing"
She said no more, nor did he. The
hours wore away, and grey dawn be-
gan to supersede dusky night.
The dead was .decently composed,
with the ghastly wound in his head
covered. The living had peen won
from insensibility to a drugged re-
semblance of restful sleep; the crowd
had dwindled, and still Crvstabel
moved about the darkened house like
Il dumb ghost in her lace robes, with
that awfully still anguish in her face
that almost drove Gilbert Chaloner
wild. For he still remained. He was
an old friend-a younger brother in
all but blood to the dead man-and it
seemed to be his place now.
''Will you not restP" he said to her
at last. "For your mothers sake,
beg of.you, try at least"
''Rest! she repeated, turning her
eyes slowly to him-the eyes that so
little while ago had sparkled with
joyous beauty, but that now seemed
stepped in stony speechless grief.
''What time have l for rest now,
and what would it be but mockery (?
No, no. have had my day of rest. 1
must work now."
In mingled astonishment and grief,
he could have cried aloud at this
change in her. But knowing words to
be useless, he said no more. He only
went his way and wondered.
The world that speculated, and
talked, and gossiped, received but lit
tie satisfaction after all; Crystabel
neither died nor went crazy. A
strength, resolution, and depth of
character that no one ever dreamed
the gay little butterfly could possess,
developed under the storms of adver-
sity and trouble.
As she had said on that terrible
night, work she must, and work she
did, earning her own and her mothers
daily bread; and, when the gay world
no longer knew or sought her out, she
felt that she was learning one of lifes
bitterest lessons, and clung with deep
er appreciation and tenderness to the
few-yery few-friends that were true
in shadow as in sunshine.
And in reaching the depths of her
heart she found at last the love that
Gilbert Chaloner had craved, and that
had been buried under frivolous
gaiety; and there, all unknown to her,
it had thrived in spite of neglect, but
now unearthed and fed with daily
thought, it grew to be her life's strong
est impulse when it was all too late
too late!
For he never spoke of love now. He
was the truest, kindest, best of friends,
coming often to their humble home,
and never without some de!icacy to
the invalid mother, who never recover
ed, but was wasting slowly away. He
took every interest that son and
brother could take. and watched over
them carefully, managing now and
then to help little, in spite of Crysta-
bells pride.
But he never spoke or seemed to
think of love, and Crystabel bore her
tried to hide any sadness or pain from
the mothers Watchful eye.
But another blow was more than she
could bear. and when, in the summer
stiffness of night, the teaderly loved
and devoted mother dropped her
weary burden, and quietly passed from
troubled sleep to sleep everlasting,
Crystabel tainted, with wild plead
ing prayer on her lips to be allowed to
die.
Gilbert Chaloner heard of it at once,
and with his heart filled to bursting,
hurried to her, moved with a resolu-
ton to take her, whether she would or
not. and cherish her against further
grief and suffering; for Crystabel had
hidden her heart with sensitive pride.
He did not dream that the love he
craved above all earthly things was
his own at last.
A stiffness suggestive of death-but
peaceful death, not wild and terror
stricken like the other-rested over
the little house, lying slumberously
warm in the sunshine.
Several kindly neighbors, with tear
filled eyes, fingered on the porch, and
whispered to him that Crystabel was
alone with her mother in the sitting
room.
And there he went, blinded with
tears, and dumb with the overwhelm-
ing love and pity that filled his whole
being.
Crystabel was kneeling beside the
dead body as once before she had
knelt by the living one, with her
crossed arms and bowed head on the
pulseless bosom.
.'Crystabel!" he almost stammering-
ly uttered.
And then she started up. Through
the clouds of bitterness and grief that
voice went pierceingly to her heart,
and she forgot everything save her
love and her anguished fearless grief.
''She is dead" she cried, standing
up and facing him. dead! And am
alone-alone-for even you will desert
me now" And the quivering love in
her voice told his heart the truth.
For an instant he stood as if stunned,
then he was beside her. In his strong
arms, that trembled with Joy, he
clasped her slender wavering figure.
To his great worshipful heart he
pressed her, lifting her sorrowful lily
white face to his own.
Desert you, my darling-my
cherished precious darling! Thank
God you will at last let me love and
care for you as my heart has ached to
dol"
She lifted her eyes shining with love;
around his neck she put her arms; and
on his breast laid her head with a sigh
of perfect trust and devotion.
Strange Household Pets.